


if you were church (i'd get on my knees)

by lilithqueen



Category: Obsidian and Blood - Aliette de Bodard
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Rough Sex, Royalty, Semi-Public Sex, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27890275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithqueen/pseuds/lilithqueen
Summary: Acatl serves his Emperor. On his knees, and on his throne.
Relationships: Acatl/Teomitl (Obsidian and Blood)
Kudos: 1





	if you were church (i'd get on my knees)

**Author's Note:**

> yeah this is just Pure Feral Horny Energy hours
> 
> title: [church - fall out boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kd1hIwS2U-Q)

“On your knees, Acatl.”

He dropped. It was silent here in the Revered Speaker’s throne room; apart from their measured breathing and the faint rustle of fabric as his Emperor adjusted himself, the only sound was his own hammering heart. This was far from the first time he’d done this, but he’d never done it _here._ He hadn’t dared. But they wouldn’t be disturbed if the Emperor wished privacy, and he’d be a liar if he said the thought didn’t excite him.

He kept his gaze on Teomitl’s sandals, the turquoise and gold gleaming in the light through the windows. His Emperor hadn’t said he could raise his head yet, but he knew what he’d see if he looked up. He’d see the Revered Speaker of Tenochtitlan with jade in his ears and turquoise on his cloak, regal as he waited to be given his due obeisance. Lean, well-muscled legs stretched as Teomitl made himself a bit more comfortable on his carved wooden throne and the jaguar pelts rustled under him; Acatl swallowed, remembering how those legs had felt around his waist the night before, how Teomitl had taken him in like he was _made_ for it. _My turn now. My turn to serve you._

Teomitl’s hand cupped his jaw, tilting his head up. The rings on his fingers were warm from the heat of his skin, but Acatl shivered anyway from the raw hunger in his gaze. “Look at you. You’re all _mine,_ aren’t you?”

 _I am not kneeling for my lover._ He took a slow breath. _I am serving my Emperor._ In full regalia, with the Turquoise-and-Gold crown nestled in his thick hair, Teomitl was the farthest thing from the bright-eyed and laughing young man that had tumbled with him across his mat last night. It didn’t change the fact that Acatl loved him so much it hurt. “I am, my lord.”

“Good.” His smile held a wicked edge, sharp as obsidian, as he undid the knot of his loincloth one-handed. His cock was half-hard, flushed dark with his arousal, and it made Acatl’s mouth water. “Put that clever tongue of yours to work.” The hand at Acatl’s jaw slid up into his hair as he added, “You may touch me.”

Acatl took another breath. The fingers buried in his hair were not drawing him forward, but the gentle pressure suggested they could. It would be easy—and well within his rights—for his Emperor to pull his mouth onto his cock and use him for his pleasure until he choked, until his voice came out rough from the abuse of his throat. But such roughness was more of how _Teomitl_ liked to be treated when the mood took him; he’d left the choice of how to begin in Acatl’s hands, and Acatl felt like being a bit more careful than that. Such perfection as his Revered Speaker’s body deserved to be cherished, after all.

Accordingly, he set his hands at Teomitl’s calves and slowly slid them upwards, feeling muscles flex as Teomitl spread his legs wider. “As you wish, my lord.” Teomitl trembled under him; he would have smiled, but his Emperor had told him to put his mouth to a better use, and he was nothing if not obedient. Still slow and careful, he lowered his lips to just barely brush the tip of Teomitl’s cock—and then he flicked a glance upward and breathed, “Like so?”

Teomitl’s eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on Acatl’s hair. “Don’t play the fool with me, priest.”

Desire pooling low in his gut, he opened his mouth and took Teomitl in. Working him to full hardness was always deliciously easy, and his lover was so _responsive._ When he slid his mouth down over the head of his cock and his hands over his bare thighs, he was rewarded with an explosive exhale and what might have been the start of a word. Spurred on, he let his eyes flutter shut and put his tongue to work exactly as his Emperor had bid him. Feeling him stiffen in his mouth was an intoxicating sensation; as Teomitl’s cock pulsed, he couldn’t help an eager noise.

“Nnh…” It was almost, but not quite, a whine. Teomitl shifted under him, tiny little thrusts of his hips, and Acatl relaxed his jaw and let him. “You’re good for me, so good—“

Each small thrust eased him a little deeper; Acatl hummed as he worked his way down the shaft. While one hand slid up the inside of Teomitl’s thigh, the other wrapped around the base of his cock. In time he’d take it all, but not quite yet. He knew Teomitl’s body as well as his own, and he knew what he liked. “Hmm.” The vibration made his lover shudder, twitching in his mouth.

Then he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, and Teomitl jerked under him. “Oh, Duality.” The grip in his hair tightened, pulling him down in an unmistakable, wordless command; if he hadn’t had his mouth thoroughly occupied, he might have smiled. As it was, though, his course was clear.

He tilted his head, relaxed his jaw further, and swallowed his lover to the hilt. Teomitl’s reaction was immediate; a breathless “Oh _fuck,_ Acatl” met his ears as he set his palms on Teomitl’s thighs, not so much as to hold him in place as to have something to do with them while he welcomed that thick, glorious cock into his throat. Like this he couldn’t put his tongue to such good use, but that hardly mattered; he bobbed his head and felt Teomitl shudder anyway.

 _Gods, yes. Give everything to me._ Teomitl was pulling his hair now, fingers tangled in the heavy waves he’d left loose as a courtesan’s, and it drew a rough moan from him as he moved. Teomitl was still being careful, letting him set the pace; he added the faintest pressure of teeth and revelled in the shaky gasp it produced, in the way Teomitl couldn’t stop himself from thrusting up into his throat—not hard enough to choke him, but enough to know that he could.

“Ah—Acatl…” Gods, he sounded desperate. Encouraged, Acatl redoubled his efforts, and Teomitl rewarded him with another wordless cry.

And then the grip on his hair tightened to the point of pain, and his Emperor snapped out, “Stop.” His voice still held a note of authority, but it was more than a bit ragged around the edges.

Acatl stopped. He let himself be pulled off Teomitl’s cock, automatically casting a glance upwards. The sight made his own neglected cock throb; his lover was flushed and hard-eyed and looking down at him with open hunger, cock slick from Acatl’s ministrations. He had to work his jaw a few times before he could speak, wiping his mouth on his arm. “My lord?”

Teomitl sucked in a breath, releasing his hair. “Get up here. I want to fuck you.”

The words sent a dizzying rush of arousal through him. _Oh gods, yes. Please._ His Emperor had given him an order; it was the work of a moment to stand and go for the knot of his loincloth—but then a firm hand on his wrist stopped him, and he blinked.

“Let me.” Teomitl’s quick, bright smile struck him to the heart. He shivered as his lover’s hands went to the clasp of his cloak, loosing the fine cotton to fall gracelessly to the floor. His loincloth went next, leaving him hard and bare before his Emperor’s throne, and Teomitl exhaled slowly as he swept his gaze up his body. “Gods, you are beautiful.”

Then he sat back, hands resting casually on the arms of his throne, and he was the Revered Speaker again. Strong, powerful, utterly in control. When he tilted his head, looking almost bored, his jade lip plug caught the light. Acatl’s heart pounded as he spoke. “Did I not give you an order?”

He had. Acatl straddled his thighs and breathed out slowly. The jar of oil they kept for such things was within reach, but he waited to see what his lover wanted him to do. Still, when their cocks brushed he couldn’t suppress a shiver of anticipation; Teomitl was strong and eager, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d been fucked until he couldn’t walk straight.

Teomitl didn’t keep him waiting long. Eyes gleaming, he slid his hands up the back of Acatl’s thighs to his rear and squeezed in just the right way to spread him open slightly. “Prepare yourself for me.”

His hands did not shake as he snatched up the jar. If his lover wanted a show, he’d get one. It was easy to brace himself one-handed on the arm of the throne, reaching his other hand, slick with oil, behind himself; he was immediately gratified to note the way Teomitl’s eyes widened as he sank one finger in slowly. “Mnnh…” The breathy whine sprang unbidden from his lips as Teomitl hauled him up and forward, so that his lover’s hard cock nudged against his fingers while his own pressed against Teomitl’s stomach.

His Emperor growled, “I’m not a patient man, Acatl.” They were close enough to kiss, but instead Teomitl’s mouth descended to his throat; Acatl didn’t even try to muffle the moan that escaped him when he started sucking a vivid mark into the thin skin.

 _Gods, when I walk out of here everyone will know—_ Teeth scraped against a bundle of nerves that had him arching with a cry and adding another slick finger to join the first, panting roughly with each stroke inside his own body. The goal was to prepare himself for his lord, not to seek his own pleasure, but if Teomitl kept doing that he might well forget his duty entirely. “Nnh—gods—“

“Enough.” Teomitl rocked his hips, hot breath washing over Acatl’s collarbone. “Do _not_ think to tease me.”

He shivered as he pulled his fingers out. Even if he’d wanted to disobey, he couldn’t bring himself to when Teomitl sounded like _that_ —firm, authoritative, _hungry._ “As—as you wish, my lord.”

Then Teomitl was guiding himself in, and he was lowering himself down, and there was absolutely no room for thought at all as he was finally, properly filled up. He threw his head back as he sank down, thighs trembling; gods, he’d taken Teomitl’s cock dozens of times, but the stretch as his flesh gave way before that hard length was still intoxicating. Teomitl rolled his hips upwards, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust that had Acatl shuddering—and then he held himself perfectly still, letting Acatl adjust as he petted along his thighs. He was flushed and trembling himself, all royal authority gone from his voice as he breathed, “Duality, you feel _perfect.”_

And then he shifted, and Acatl started to move. It always took him a moment to establish a rhythm; his first few rocking motions were slow, but when Teomitl bucked under him he drove his hips down _hard_ and oh, _that_ was what his lover wanted. He had to grab onto the arms of the throne with both hands to keep the pace, Teomitl’s hands at his hips pulling him down each time he lifted up. He knew he was making too much noise—each thrust upwards brought a keening little gasp as it left him full again, even if it wasn’t enough for him to come yet—but he was far past caring.

It wasn’t as though Teomitl was silent, after all. “Nngh...Acatl—gods, you are so _tight_ —“ Fingers dug into his hip hard enough to bruise as he fucked up into him, setting a deliciously rough pace; his other hand buried itself in the thick hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his head back, and so it was in between sharp little nips to his throat that he growled, “You’re _mine.”_

“I—” The next thrust was at an angle that sent sparks up his spine, and he nearly sobbed. “Yes, yours, just—“ He didn’t need to ask; Teomitl grinned viciously against his skin and did it again. And _again,_ sparks building to a steady flame with each thrust. His own cock twitched and pulsed, and he groaned as their hips met again.

Teomitl tugged his hair again, mouthing a bruise into his skin. His growl sank into Acatl’s bones. _“So_ good.” The sudden sting of teeth made Acatl keen and clench down around him; shuddering, he drove up into him.

Acatl made a breathless noise. Like this, each sharp roll of his hips and brush of skin against Teomitl’s stomach made him see stars; the pleasure built and built, but it wasn’t enough—he wasn’t close _enough_ —and so before he could think about it he was lifting one hand and wrapping it around his own cock.

Teomitl’s hand came up and grabbed his wrist. _“No.”_ It was a snarl. “You’ll come on my cock, or not at all.”

“My _lord.”_ His voice came out in a sob; it was wholly undignified, but that didn’t matter anymore. “Please—“

But he dropped his hand, and then he had to grab onto the throne again as Teomitl slammed into him with renewed fervor, voice tight with his own arousal. “You can. You’ve done it before. You won’t—gods, you won’t fail me _now_ , will you, Acatl?”

Words were beyond him. There was only the steady throbbing of Teomitl’s cock, the burn in his thighs beginning to show itself as he threw himself into matching his lover’s pace. But his Emperor had asked him a question, and through the pounding of his own blood in his veins he managed to pant out, “If—my Emperor commands—“

His hips snapped upwards, hard enough to make Acatl cry out. “Say my name.”

He could do nothing but obey. “Teomitl—oh, gods, _Teomitl.”_ Because Teomitl wasn’t stopping, wasn’t slowing, and he realized dizzily that following his Revered Speaker’s command would be an inevitability. _Duality, I’m—_ “Teomitl!”

And then he was coming untouched, spilling over their stomachs and Teomitl’s cloak, and for an eternity his world fell away entirely. He barely registered Teomitl’s own release through the storm of his own, but the pulsing of that hard cock deep inside him made him squeeze around it just to hear Teomitl’s breathless curse in his ear.

He came back to himself slowly, catching his breath as Teomitl pulled him closer and buried his face in the hollow of his throat. His crown dug into Acatl’s ear, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. Not when Teomitl made a noise like a contented jaguar and pressed a kiss to skin that would surely bear some spectacular marks later. “Mmm.”

Now that he could think again, he was mildly amazed they hadn’t broken the throne. He’d dug his nails so hard into the wood that they’d left crescent-shaped marks behind; when he flexed his hands, they stung with the renewed bloodflow. Sliding them around Teomitl’s back felt better. For a moment he simply rested his head against his lover’s, and then he murmured, “Have I pleased you, my lord?”

“ _Gods,_ yes.” Teomitl stroked down his spine, slow and soothing. “You always do.”

“I’m glad.” This time it was his turn to run a hand up into Teomitl’s hair, gently tugging his head up so he could slot their mouths together. The jade adornments of his office pressed into Acatl’s skin as he deepened the kiss, and some part of him thrilled at the reminder that this man was his Emperor. _Huitzilopochtli’s conduit in the Fifth World. Leader of the Triple Alliance. The man I love beyond breath._

Teomitl sank into it, sweet and affectionate, and when he pulled away he was smiling. “My Acatl.”

His heart felt perilously close to melting. “Yours.”

He could have stayed in Teomitl’s arms forever. But their current position was growing less comfortable by the minute, and so he sighed and lifted himself off Teomitl’s now-soft length with a reflexive shudder. “Nnnh...” Teomitl made a face that he wished he was a good enough artist to immortalize, but he couldn’t quite work up the energy to chuckle at it. He was sticky and growing sore. “...We should clean ourselves.”

“We should.” Teomitl’s hands skimmed lightly over his hips as he flashed a smile up at him. “Share my steam bath?”

He’d always demurred the offer before; steam baths were places of purification, of cleansing, and he knew full well that if Teomitl had his way they would _not_ be shedding earthly things along with the filth of their bodies. _But…_ He remembered the way Teomitl had taken charge—had taken _him_ , even if nominally he’d been the one setting the pace _—_ and felt heat stir in his core again. “If you want.”

Teomitl’s eyes gleamed victoriously. “I do.”

Sliding off Teomitl’s lap and getting to his feet again was not an easy task; his legs had really never been happy with him after his trip through the Heartland, and he found himself wincing as he rose. It didn’t go unnoticed by his lover, who remarked—casually, but with a tone that suggested it was a half-serious option—“I could carry you there.”

He scooped up his cloak and tied his loincloth, narrowing his gaze at Teomitl; it would have communicated his irritation more effectively if he couldn’t also feel himself blushing. _“No.”_

Teomitl grinned teasingly at him. “Refusing an offer of aid from your Revered Speaker?”

He did not roll his eyes, but the urge was nearly overwhelming. _Gods, if he had his way my feet would hardly touch the ground._ “My Revered Speaker, as powerful as he is, seems to have forgotten the value of _discretion._ I will meet you at your steam bath, but I’ll make my own way there.”

“Mmm.” Teomitl’s gaze softened as he looked him over, the grin turning to a slow, sweet smile. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

He walked a little faster on his way out of the throne room. It wouldn’t be soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> historical fun fact: people had SO much sex in the steam baths that when the spanish rolled up they were Utterly Scandalized (granted, this is probably bc the people doing the chronicling were clergymen). teocatl are carrying on a proud tradition.
> 
> wanna yell about obsblood with me? Hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ship_to_hell/) or [tumblr](https://notapaladin.tumblr.com/)!


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